go on record for being the latest I’ve stayed up this Christmas break.
And it will not go on record for being a New Year’s trend: 2008, you’re looking at a cured child who goes to bed at decent times instead of programming all night! Except… for a little relapse… every now and again. For old time’s sake.
And by the by: Happy New Year!
Well, the first thing on Christmas, my family gave to me,
A rubber chicken filling me with glee
And the second thing of Christmas I found under the tree,
Two wicked soundtrack CDs
For my third go at Christmas, my family gave to me,
Three expensive clothings,
Two wicked soundtracks
And a rubber chicken filling me with glee
In the fourth part of Christmas, I rose that morn to see,
Four screaming sisters
(and you know the rest)
—–To shorten this post so you can do something useful with your day instead of reading my blog, I’ll abbreviate here.—–
And the twelfth thing on Christmas doesn’t rhyme with ee (sorry!)
Twelve chocolate cookies
Eleven hours programming (exaggeration)
Ten hours of gaming (exaggeration)
Nine hours of snacking
Eight maids a’milking (exaggeration)
Seven hours of shopping
Six pairs of socks
Five happy teens! (Me, sister, sister, sister, sister, of which not all are teens)
Four screaming sisters
Three expensive clothings
Two wicked soundtracks
And a rubber chicken filling me with glee!
Hope you had a Merry Christmas. Don’t forget to think up some wonderful New Year’s resolutions tonight so you can break them tomorrow!
Our family now owns a cat, named Lila. Despite my sisters’ notion that our dog is better, I like her best. For one thing, she doesn’t shed hair all over the house. For another, she keeps herself clean and smelling good, which is apparently too much to ask of our dear pooch Andy.
Between my last post and this one, many exciting events have happened; exiting so much, in fact, that I was too busy being excited to actually post about them:
- My oldest sister got crushed by a falling recliner, suffered a concussion, and was unable to take any of this semester’s final exams. She must make them up next year.
- My oldest sister had knee surgery, immobilizing her and confining her to the couch where she is strapped to a circulator.
- My mom got a B in Anatomy and Physiology. Scary to have a genius for a mother…
- I got better grades this semester than the last two. Probably because my classes were easier…
- I got a shot at the doctor’s office.
- I got a phone-call saying that the shot I got was the wrong one, and I will have to go back and get another.
Many other exciting things exist on the horizon: seven more vaccinations I get to take before school starts, rolling out an alpha version of my transcript designer program (written in C# for you technically minded folk), and rolling out three–yes, three–new blogs: one for my technical musings, one for my fictional musings (co-written by my sister), and one for my sister alone. Yessiree, it’s been a busy week.
I learned my first Chinese two days ago. Now I can say thank you to every Chinese person I meet.
However, that knowledge was useless in my speech, which happens to be over. And it went, if not well, at least tolerably okay. I lost my train-of-thought a few times, resulting in some awkward pauses that caused even my teacher to glace up at me. Despite those, it may have gone well. Only Friday will tell. For, of course, the grade comes Friday.
And if anyone is interested, I am taking too many credit-hours next semester to learn Chinese. Even though I’d rather learn Chinese than almost anything. Except maybe Japanese, which isn’t offered here for credit.
Just a status-quo update. Continue on your merry lives with that knowledge that I’m starting another blog… a tech blog, of all things, which I should have started years ago.
Once upon a time, there was a college student nicknamed Daquell. He was nicknamed Daquell because the nickname, Daquell, had been bestowed ‘pon him. That is why we will not call him Jack, or Jerry, or Sam, or Xie, because his name will not be named, and his name will be Daquell.
On the particular day of this particular tale, the particular student was particularly perplexed because of a particular class in which he had to give a particular speech. It would be a half-hour long. It would possibly make or break his grade. He was, to put it bluntly, doomed, because he had only printed out the speech a few minutes ago.
As he sat in his lab, arguing electronic beliefs with the students he was watching over (go Internet Explorer! Death to Firefox!), he wondered what the outcome would be. Would he finish with a high grade? Would he finish with a low grade? Would he finish at all? Only time would tell.
Or, by its normal name, whooping cough. Yep, my campus has it. Lookee.
I caught a "cold" a week ago… nothing major, just a runny nose, sneezing, sore throat, mild fever. Turns out that those happen to be the same symptoms of whooping cough.
So, Part II, just as I promised! Our hero returns to his place of higher education just in time to catch the epidemic! The evil cough laughed insidiously, "whoop whoop whoop." It had its foe in its evil snare!
Will the hero survive? Will he overcome!? Tune in next time for either: The Enigmatic Epidemic, or Whooping the Cough!
Okay, I’ve got a headache. Bedtime…
Wow. Thanksgiving vacation just a’rolled away. Synopsis follows:
- A day before holiday begins, my youngest sis’ is admitted into a hospital due to not being able to eat for nine days
- Days 1 and 2 – Spent in the hospital trying to cheer up poor Skippy (nickname); it’s awfully hard to do that when brain surgery seems likely
- Day 3 – Brain surgery is cancelled, Skippy is released, and vacation really starts–
- –or not. All of my sisters have caught a vicious flu!
- Day 4 – Spent in my room studying, staying away from said flu
- Day 5 – The Christmas Tree™ is brought out and adorned; three puppet shows are given by Skippy and me to the entire family
- Day 6 – Skippy is sick again. Possibly going to be sent back to the hospital
I will say this, that of all the unique holidays ever experienced by mankind, this could compete. Maybe not win, but compete.
Which is more restful? College — quizzes, tests, papers, speeches, friends; Home — illness, flu, illness, hospital, illness, family? To be continued… (or, the dual-personality of daquell. Up next!)
Estoy débil y el sufrimiento, pero me regocijo!
Je suis faible et de la souffrance, mais je me réjouir!
我觉得弱, 又很痛苦, 但我也欢庆！
I am weak and suffering, but I rejoice — Thanksgiving is only four days away. (Thanksgiving, ergo sleep). I have 70 stories, a practice card, and a 5 page exposition on Genesis 22.
(if my words or grammar lack,
Google Translate caused the slack.
thankfully my words are mended:
a translator I’ve befriended!)
I remember when my grandparents used to tell me about the old days, the good ole’ days, in fact, when Television was called Radio. After the all-pervasive ‘Tube came out, though, nobody thought much about Mr. Radio. He sort of crawled into the corner, pulled his antennae and dials around himself, and quietly slept. Slept, not expired.
The GameBoy was the amazement and joy of ever eight-year-old. Of course, it only had a black/white screen. And yes, there was no joystick. The games were rather small. All of these negatives disappeared beside the base that made the Boy huge. Portability.
Mr. Radio is back. He’s discovered the same magic that the GameBoy found. Of course, he’s changed his name to Mr. Internet Radio. Everyone seems to be doing Mr. Internet Radio’s dance these days. He’s even come up with a new meme: podcasting. Connect any decent mp3 player to a blog, download the podcast listing, and voila! instant radio-to-go, complete with coffee and grapes.
I cannot offer coffee or grapes on this blog, but I can offer podcasting. As soon as I get my venerable microphone, Ike, back into working shape, the radio shows shall commence. Time permitting, school dependant, and Deo Volente, of course.
As a teaser, here is a radio drama my younger sister and I started when we were young.
Once upon a time, there was a small child named Daquell. He was maybe four years old. Every day, Daquell ate peanut-butter and jelly. He at it for lunch. He ate for mid-day snack. He asked for it for breakfast. If dinner was something against his liking, he was the first to suggest a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich.
Day after day after day. Peanut-butter. Jelly. Two pieces of bread. No variation. Day after day after day.
One afternoon, Daquell had just sat down to his favorite meal. It was a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich! Hooray! He took a big bite! And then Daquell discovered that he hated peanut-butter and jelly! He couldn’t eat even one more bite! It was terrible! Sickening! Gross!
And from that day forward, Daquell despised eating peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches. And he lived happily ever after eating grilled-cheese.
The End? (not likely. look for part II coming up soon to a blog near you!)